


Aphrodite's Kiss

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, This Is Totally Smut, maybe smut, yeah smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are, as usual, on a case.  When Dean is cursed to fall in love, Sam & Cas have to find a way to break it before Dean goes past the point of no return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Hey Sammy, I could use your help on this.” Dean grunted as he struggled with something under the Impala’s hood.

“Hmm?” Sam said, jolting out of a daydream. “Sorry, what?” Dean stood up straight and leaned against the grille of his beloved Baby. 

“Are you actually even listening to me, or are you thinking about that dumb play again?” Ever since a few months ago, when they had hunted down a muse and run into a musical theater production of the Supernatural books, Sam had been quiet and thoughtful.

“I said sorry, what did you need?” You to get your head in the game Dean thought, but he didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I need a Job Sammy, being cooped up in this bunker with only my geeky brother and the occasional vampiric rat for company is getting on my nerves.”

“Agreed.” Sam said, “Lucky for you, I think I might have one.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Eight girls and one boy, aged seventeen to twenty-six have gone missing in the last month”

“Sounds like our kind of gig, where’s all the action at?” Dean said, closing the hood of the Impala.

“Hell.” Sam said without batting an eye.

“HELL?” Dean said incredulously. 

“Not Hell Hell. Hell, Michigan” Sam said, realizing his mistake.

“Not much better, I’d almost rather go back to Hell than go to Michigan in February.” Dean complained, wiping the grease off his hands. “let’s hit the road.” Sam looked at him strangely.

“Now?” he asked. “Dean are you sure you’re up to that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean snapped.

“Just that, well you've still got the mark, and-”

“And what?”

“Never mind.” Sam sighed, “I’ll go get our stuff and we’ll hit the road.” Good. thought Dean, and he turned back to his car, leaving his brother to get their things.

 

Sam set his bag on the creaky motel bed, tired after a long day of travel. Once they had arrived in Hell, Dean had dropped him off at the motel to check in while he got some food.  
Sam lied back on the bed with an exhausted sigh. Ever since the musical Dean had been acting oddly, eating rarely, sleeping even less, working on the Impala day and night. None of this behavior was all that strange for Dean but still, Sam could tell something was off. After all, he knew Dean better than anyone. Perhaps even better than Dean himself.

 

Dean placed his order, then pulled forward to the next window. A tall brunette handed him a paper bag. Dean thanked her absentmindedly and paid. He drove forward and headed back to the motel, paying no mind to the bright pink hearts that adorned the streetlights, or the banner that proclaimed, “Come one, Come all, to the Valentine’s Day Ball!” Obviously, someone had thought they were very clever. 

 

Sam heard the key in the lock and looked up from his computer. Dean walked in and set the bag of greasy fast food on the table.  
“Food.” he said before walking to his bed and pulling his fed suit out of his bag.  
“Aren't you going to eat?” Sam inquired.  
“Not hungry.” Dean replied before going into the bathroom to change. Sam looked worriedly at the bathroom door before diving hungrily into the sack of food.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean and Sam walked into the Hell police station, fed-suited up.  Sam strode over to the receptionist and held up his badge.

    "I'm Special Agent Rogers, and this is my partner, Agent Barnes. We're here to talk to the sheriff about the missing persons."

    The receptionist waved them through to where a short, blonde woman who had to be the sheriff sat filing papers. When she saw the two, she stood up, smiled, and proffered her hand.

    “Sheriff Swan, and you are? Dean stepped in front of his younger brother, shook her hand, and said, with a flirtatious smile,

    “Agents Smith and Smith, we’re here about the missing persons.” The smile dropped off her face, and she collapsed back into her chair.

    “Have a seat.” she sighed.

\-------------------------------------------------------

    The Sheriff reached into her desk, pulled out a file, and handed it to Sam.

    “Quite honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it,” she explained, “Y’know, one or two kids go missing, you mark ‘em down as runaways, but ten of them-”

    “Did you say ten?” Sam interrupted. “I thought there were only nine.”

    “There were only nine, until last night, but sometime between eleven thirty and three in the morning we had another one disappear on us.” She pointed at one of the pictures Dean had been looking at. “Thomas Mosby, age eighteen. High School senior. his girlfriend, Elizabeth, went missing five days ago.”

    “I see.” said Sam. “Have you found any connection between the missing persons? You know, Schools, Churches, Groups, et cetera?”

    “Nothing.”

    “Alright. Have you been experiencing lightning storms recently?”

    “No, why?”

    “Just checking. What about unusual cattle deaths?”

    “What kind of Feds are you? The sheriff asked, staring at them incredulously.

    “Just following procedure.” Dean said, giving her a wide, reassuring smile.

    “Oh, well no, no strange cattle deaths.” said the sheriff, still a little confused.

    “Thank you for your time sheriff Swan,” said Sam, standing up to go. “We’ll be in touch.”

 ****\---------------------------------------------------------

     As the two brothers got into the Impala, Sam said "So no demons then."

     "And it's not a werewolf either, the moon isn't right." his brother replied "Could it be a vamp?"

     "The timing is wrong, some of the attacks happened during the middle of the day."

     "Maybe they were wearing lots of sunscreen."

     "You're kidding me, right?"

     "What?"

     "Come on, let's go check out the house of Thomas Mosby, maybe we'll find something there that will explain what's happening."


End file.
